Thinking Outside the Box
by cassierules
Summary: The OSP is feeling the pinch from budget cuts, but the perfect solution may have just fallen into their laps.


Thinking Outside the Box

Summary: The OSP is feeling the pinch from budget cuts, but the perfect solution may have just fallen into their laps. Spun off of Thinking Inside the Box, but if you've read that, they're not exactly in the same universe.

A/N: Thanks to **Skittlestars **who pointed out I'd never quite explained how NCIS:LA might fit in-universe. Here you are, guys!

"Okay, _seriously_? Mace, power just went out again!", G shouted, tossing a balled up case report towards the back of Sam's head. It hit with an almost deadly precision, causing the other agent to glare at him angrily.

"Look, G, you're not the only one who just got their damn reports erased. Where the hell is the little surfer shrimp when you need him?", Sam shot back, somewhere between frustrated and furious.

The last time power had been cut, Macy had forced them to write out their case reports, which had been more of a case study in disaster. Within a week, the office was drowning in reams of excess paper, and Mace had almost blown the roof off the place with her fits about the agents' dismal handwriting and inability to keep books without a computer program telling them where everything went. Even Kensi whose neater writing was up to Macy's standards, had gotten grilled on the technicalities that were usually automatically filled in by the online printoff forms.

Of course, the office had generators, but their combined power all went upstairs to the Ops Room, where it was quote Macy,_ needed,_ although Sam had caught Eric and Nate oogling Kensi's facebook pictures twice on a Wednesday and watching clips of some dogs decorate a Christmas tree an hour from quittin' time on a Friday. Needed. _As if._

"Eric? Upstairs hogging power. And Food. And Hot Water.", Kensi muttered dejectedly, sinking into the fold-out sofa bed beside the team's desks. Her wet hair was hanging loose just past her shoulders, and she was dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a Team Portugal soccer jersey, her arms covered in Band-Aids as she ripped open a box of organic granola bars.

"So planting those bugs in Hopewell's farm went well?", Callen quipped, a look of genuine amusement on his face. Teasing Kensi always made it easy to forget the crisis at hand.

"The damn pig tried to run me over.", she told them, holding up her right arm as proof.

Sam stifled a chuckle. "I'm sure we could charge it for assault on a federal agent. That would keep Hopewell on a tight leash for the time being", he said, feigning seriousness.

"In the meantime, we should get Kensi checked out for rabies. Y'know, I read one of the most telling symptoms is sudden, irrational anger.", G added, unable to keep the goofy grin off his face. He ducked as Kensi sent a granola bar speeding for his head.

"I hope your house gets set on fire by Smokey the Firehouse Bear."

"Whoa. Bad experience at Fleet Week?" G had picked up the granola bar from the floor and was chewing on an end thoughtfully.

Kensi sighed theatrically. "That isn't the point. This is the second time this month that the power's been shut off, and this time, they cut the water, too. How in the hell does a federal institution get to being one payment off from begging for a bailout? I hate the establishment."

"You hate everything."

"Well it's not like I've been in Washington to beg yet, Kensi. But to answer your question, maybe the five-figure shopping spree from last December had something to do with it.", Macy said,and edge of joking sarcasm to her voice. She sat beside Kensi and snatched a bar from the box, nibbling with a purposeful look on her face.

"Hm, Mace, maybe she could work it off. I see a week of overtime and a toothbrush with your name on it.", G sing-songed.

"Hey, I didn't say you guys were clear. Sam, how the hell is spending_ a week in the Bahamas at some exclusive resort _with your wife _Overtime Expenses_? And G, just because I give you a key to this place so you're not in some shelter _doesn't_ mean you can go order _four thousand satellite channels_ because you get bored!"

"But it was my _birthday_-"

"Come on, you know the wife, it's overtime in itself-"

"I just wanted to see if they had the Oprah Network-"

Macy held up a hand to stop them. "Fine. Hell, I don't care. I probably put the office account in the _negatives_ the last time my mother was in town. But-", Macy paused to glance conspiratorially at her team,almost as though she were to tell them a personal secret about Eric or Nate.

"Vance sent me an e-mail, there's a guy upstairs who wants to talk to us. He has _connections_. Admittedly, it isn't exactly the face I want for the OSP, but I'm not begging bureaucrats or turning us into a charity.", Macy told them proudly.

G nodded. "Connections. Like Kensi and the Three Little Pigs. Now I know why they didn't have cars...", he feigned a thoughtful look, nearly falling out of his chair as he moved to avoid the laptop thrown his way.

"Kensi! As though we didn't have _enough_ problems..."

A few moments later, they were assembled in front of the room's largest screen, each seated in one of Eric's colorful beach chairs. Even Nate had come up, halfway through a bag of "emergency" trail mix, for when nothing better was in the vending machine across the street.

"I don't know how you're not dead yet.", Macy muttered, taking her seat next to the team's shrink.

"Superpowers.", Nate whispered through a mouthful of who knew what.

"Online in six.", Eric reminded them, before taking a seat in his own bright yellow chair.

The screen went black, before switching to a display of a man in a clean, bright, office. He was shuffling papers in his hands an occasionally glancing up at the screen.

"So this is the infamous Office of Special Projects.", he said, with an Australian accent, surveying the room via webcam.

"Oh, is _that _the word he used.", Macy replied stiffly.

He shrugged then surveyed the team through the webcam. "Hm."

"No way. He looks way too clean cut to be paying off black ops for a hit.", Callen whispered to his partner, tugging on Sam's sleeve.

"You're messed up, G. Beside, Mace has _ethics _It's not like she'll sell us out to the mob.", Sam replied, an Macy and Vance's mysterious contact exchanged the obligatory greetings.

The others were surveying the man in a businesslike manner, hands folded in their laps. G cleared his throat.

"So. Who needs to die?", he quipped, getting uncomfortable chuckles from the team and a pointed glare from Mace. "We do mob hits, drug hits, even death-by-pig."

Kensi kicked him. "I'm sorry, he needs to die. What can we do for you, sir?"

He chuckled. "I'm sure you've all heard of NCIS? The TV show based on the DC office of your agency?"

"The books were totally badass. I mean, Agent Tibbs is like Superman!", Eric piped up.

"Wouldn't you know?", Macy murmured, her thoughts flying back to a certain Marine she knew.

"Well, yes, the series was partially based on the books. Have you ever watched an episode?"

G shrugged. "Yeah, I guess.", he turned back towards Macy. "There was a marathon on USA."

Macy sighed, then refocused her attention. "Director Vance wants what? Our opinion on his latest PR scheme?"

She was no fan of Vance's, and certainly didn't care who knew it. After all, she did his agency's dirty work, and a damn good job of it as well.

"No, he wants you to find a unicorn for his daughter.", he replied, in the staccato tone that Mace would have thought was Vance's.

Kensi grinned.

"Okay, look. NCIS is one of the network's top shows. The numbers just keep going up, if you're into the math. We're competing with American Idol and pulling decent numbers to boot. You know how it goes, you expand the universe, CSI-style.", he explained to the team.

"Wait...so there's gonna be a TV show about us?", Kensi asked, suddenly interested.

"Like The Hills? I hate reality TV.", Kensi said quietly.

"She hates everything.", Sam told him, turning the teams attention back to the screen. "But you're saying the studios actually okay with using their money to bail us out?"

He shook his head. "Charity's huge in Hollywood, but not exactly. See, people like realism. They like feeling like they're watching real people do real things."

"Voyeurs."

He aimed a pointed glare at Kensi. "Anyway. We would be paying your office collectively as _consultants._ You guys help out with the details, and you get a cut out of the profits."

"Hmmm. I dunno.", Callen gave the man a rakish grin and tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair, surveying Mace's contact with a rare amusement. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather go with the pig?", he joked, getting eye rolls and stifled groans from his teammates.

Eric ignored Callen and instantly had an idea ready for the producer. "We should totally have this one guy be like, the techie. Meek nerd by night, but by day, he'd kick criminal ass."

"Guy said consultants, Eric, not your personal vehicle to wish fulfillment.", Sam told him.

"Besides, who would play him? The guy from that Spelling Bee musical?", G added.

"A musical? Hey Mace, he needs a drug test."., Sam chuckled dryly.

Eric looked down. "Oh, uh, I just thought...um. Never mind."

The producer nodded. "Sure", he laughed. "We could make that work. What else do you guys think? Casting suggestions, anyone?" The team glanced at each other.

"We could get that rapper guy to play Sam...", Callen considered. "You know, the guy that plays in the gym when this guy works out." He punched his partner lightly on the shoulder.

"You're messed in the head, G."

"Go eat a pig.", Kensi muttered. Nate grinned.

"Can't, not kosher."

Kensi rolled her eyes. "You're not even Jewish, moron!"

The man chuckled. "So, do you guys have any ideas on what the characters will be like? We'll worry about who's playing them later."

"Ah, man. Girl with issues. Hot as hell, totally badass, and um...she's gotta wreck cars."

Kensi slapped G on the side of the head. "Okay, fine, so I have a few speeding tickets. It doesn't mean I think the highway is a monster truck rally."

"What about that one guy whose car you ripped the side mirror off of?", Nate chimed in.

"He cheated on me."

"That random car you keyed in the parking lot at Target?"

"The guy called me fat."

"The guy whose car you-"

"Okay, seriously? For one, he dissed my mother, dissed my football team, and told me I was like Jessica Simpson in bed, okay? He deserved it.", Kensi said,falling back dejectedly in her chair.

Nate raised his arms. "Oh-kay."

Macy rolled her eyes and stepped forward towards the screen. "Okay. So say we do this. How much are we getting paid?", she sighed.

"How much do you want?", the producer said cheerfully, rummaging through a stack of papers on his desk.

Macy grabbed a post-it off Eric's desk and quickly added up monthly expenses. She ripped the top sheet off and held it towards the screen.

"Um...so...how many agents do you employ again?", the bewildered man blubbered.

"Three.", Mace said innocently, a self-important look on her face. "I'm just looking to make the move from renting to owning.", she added sarcastically.

He sighed. "Fine. You have to understand, the network is willing to put our every resource behind making NCIS' spin-off our new number one.", he said, as though he was selling Mace Girl Guide cookies.

"We'll have to think about it.", G said with a small smile. "Are you sure the pig is out of the question?"

"Your face is out of the question.", Kensi shot at him.

"Nate, she's hurting my feelings!", G pretended to be hurt.

Meanwhile, Eric had turned back to the screen, intent on selling his latest idea. "Y'know, instead of this crappy warehouse, we should have like, a refurbished Spanish Mission, and instead of having a lead lone wolf like agent Tibbs, we should have partners, like Batman and Robin, and what a kickass pilot it would be if the lead agent got shot by a terrorist cell in the pilot only to find out later that they weren't terrorists but old contacts and- OW!"

Kensi's hand left a tomato red imprint on the side of Eric's face. "Shut up or I'll drop you."

Mace groaned. It seemed like this newer, younger team that Vance had so generously dumped on her too often deteriorated into a rambunctious, overactive, group of preschoolers. When and _if_ they ever got it together was constantly up in the air.

She swept over the group with growing disdain. Sam and G were teasing a decidedly more and more put-off Kensi, while Eric blabbered on and Nate rocked back and forth on the back legs of his chair. Mace put her fingers in her mouth and whistled, instantly quieting the team.

She pointed wordlessly at the door, as they filed out suppressing chuckles. Mace kicked the door closed and focused back to Vance's contact.

"Sorry. I-, hm, well, as you can see, we're a little rough around the edges.", she told him.

The producer nodded. "That's not a bad thing."

"In this line of work, they'll regrettably be dead in a week. Now let's talk about this TV thing. Are we still getting a check if the show doesn't make it past September?"

The produced laughed. "I wouldn't set my sights so low. You've got a good mix of people here. Yeah, they're kids, just feeling it out, but the right chemistry, the right formula, they'll get it all someday.", he said knowingly, as Mace heard several things breaking downstairs.

**THE END!  
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